Sovereign's Vow
Author: Sunless Rain
Chapter 4 – Apocalyptic Farm
Winterland—a frigid domain where blizzards never cease. At its center rises a towering mage spire, the seat of ancient arcane craft, where powerful magic scrolls are forged. Scattered across the frozen expanse are enchanted lakes that serve as farms for ice- and water-aligned magical beasts. These creatures are tended, bred, and harvested by tireless undead servants.
The Scorched Lands sprawl within the colossal caldera of a living volcano. Constant eruptions hurl molten rock and ash into the heavens, painting the sky in fire. Here dwell the forged fire spirits—elemental beings born from the world's molten heart. They roam the lava fields, tirelessly collecting molten ores drawn from the earth's blazing core.
Tempest Land is a realm of howling storms and violet lightning, where the very air shimmers with volatile, unstable mana. Every crackling flash sears magic itself from existence. The atmosphere is so impossibly dense that raw mana condenses into crystalline form, causing magic crystals to fall like rain. Here, Earth Golems harvest the fallen mana crystals from the storm-scarred ground.
As they crossed the Valley, they were constantly battered by elemental backlash and negative status effects spilling out from each surrounding region.
From Winterland, waves of numbing frost rolled across the path, inflicting slowness and sudden cold snaps that stiffened limbs and froze breath midair.
From the Scorched Lands, bursts of volcanic force hurled molten rocks skyward; some crashed dangerously close—or directly onto the convoy—while an oppressive heat radiated outward, imposing a lingering armor-shredding debuff.
From Tempest Land, the air crackled with unstable, mana-rich pressure. A steady pull drained their mana reserves, and arcs of stray violet lightning lashed out at random, scorching the ground and anyone unlucky enough to be struck.
Fortunately, the group remained largely unaffected by the barrage of elemental effects, protected by their naturally high status resistances—and by Kael, who casually misdirected any incoming harm with nothing more than a flick of his fingers. Most of the attacks wouldn't have seriously injured them anyway, but out of respect for Lord Burning_Ones, Ka'el still cleared a safe path for the convoy.
With one deliberate exception he made no effort to shield Mavis.
"A-Achoo! You bastard—you're doing this on purpose!" Mavis shouted, shivering violently. The invoker continued his work with exaggerated focus, pretending not to hear a single word.
Being the one with the weakest physical stats—and the lowest status resistance—Mavis glared daggers at Kael, a string of snot dangling embarrassingly from his nose.
At that moment, a light burst from the maw of Mavis' toad dragon, and a faint glow began to ripple along its skin. Instinctively, Mavis threw her arms around the wide, warm head of her dragon toad, burying her face against it for comfort. She squeezed her eyes shut… and then, suddenly, they flew open as a startling realization struck her.
She pulled back, glared at her mount, and smacked its head with both hands.
"You! Why didn't you do that from the start?! You're a toad dragon! You spew magma, for f—sake!"
Bop.
One of its eyes slowly closed.
Bop.
The other eye drooped.
The poor creature endured her furious smacking in silence. At last, the convoy arrived before a massive floating sphere—the Talion Sphere, a colossal orb looming above them, restrained by chains drawn taut on all four sides.
The Talion Sphere is unlike any other construct. Its passive, burning effect deals damage to all creatures nearby. Against high-level players or NPCs, this damage is mostly superficial—but it's its other abilities that make it a true menace.
While incapable of moving or attacking directly, the Talion Sphere is far from easy to defeat. It's rapidly regenerating barrier and potent damage reflection make it a nightmare to engage.
Whenever the Talion Sphere took damage, it reflected that force in a wide radius, harming everyone nearby. Destroying it could be even worse—the more damage it absorbed, the stronger the backlash. Worst of all, it bypassed both physical and magical resistance. Attempting to destroy it was like punching yourself in the face.
BURNING_ONES, feeling the backlash from his own burning effect—his benevolent aura striking it, only to ricochet damage back at him and the nearby NPCs. Though the harm was mostly superficial, he quickly deactivated his aura.
Kael spoke suddenly, his voice smooth and measured, every word dripping with courtesy. "My Lord, you need not disable your majestic Benevolent aura for so trivial an inconvenience. Its effect is but superficial to us. We should continue onward, basking in the radiance of your divine glory."
While Kael was delivering his spiel, Mavis quickly covered his mouth and, in a low voice, whispered to Neptuneus, "What is a Majestic Benevolent Aura?" She kept her eyes on Kael, making sure he didn't hear—fearing he would brand her a fool for asking such a question.
Neptuneus looked upward, as if digging through his memories, and replied, "It's called a Benevolent Aura, not a Majestic Benevolent Aura. If I'm not mistaken, it's a skill that only players who have never killed a positive-karma mob—or certain virtuous players—can achieve."
"As expected of Lord Burning_Ones… he really is one of a kind," Mavis mused, even among all the Paragons, each equally remarkable in their own right.
At the peaks flanking both sides of the valley stands a constructed tower—the Ethereal Tower. When it strikes a target, it inflicts a crippling status ailment: the victim is transformed into their ethereal form, severely slowed, and rendered incapable of performing physical attacks. Worse still, all magic damage inflicted upon them is amplified as if magic bypasses flesh and armor entirely, tearing directly at the soul. Not deadly on its own, the tower becomes an absolute menace within the Third Floor, and when combined with its defending inhabitants, it makes the floor far more perilous to conquer.
From afar, Burning ones notice the movements of Fire Forge Spirits, Earth Golems, and the Undead at work. The Fire Forge Spirits moved in a line, collecting molten ores and precious stones from the caldera itself—though some were obliterated by debris raining down from the volcano. The Earth Golems gathered mana crystals amidst tempestuous weather, with lightning striking some and shattering them on impact. Meanwhile, the Undead were scattered around the frozen lakes: some standing idly, others fishing through the icy surface.
Seeing all the creations and intricate designs of the second floor reminded him of his friends—Espoweld, MARCH, O'Laur, RAMBO TAN, and TOTI—who, together with him, had built this floor and even crafted its Guardian, Ka'el. The floor's design was heavily inspired by a game they had loved in the past. They had been ecstatic when they finished creating Ka'el and the entire floor, reminiscing fondly about their shared passion for that old game.
Not long after witnessing the workings of the Second Floor, they descended to the First. This time, Neptuneus took the lead. With a calm gesture, he pushed the surrounding waters away from the group, forming a vast, shimmering bubble that carried them forward through the depths.
The First Floor was known among the players of Eryndor simply as the Water Level. Such floors were common in guild bases, serving as the primary safeguard for their entrances. Under the established rules, a guild base could never be completely sealed; instead, water levels existed to slow any would-be raiders, forcing them to struggle against the environment before they could even reach the inner defenses. What could not be shut off entirely could still be made deadly slow.
As they navigated the puzzle-like floor—littered with traps and prowled by hostile marine creatures—BURNING_ONES couldn't help but recall how universally despised water-level floors were in the game. He hated them too. For anyone who wasn't a water-aligned race, moving through these levels felt like being a newborn calf —awkward, slow, and painfully vulnerable.
Some homogeneous guilds—like the famed Deepwatch, whose members were all water-aligned races—were rumored to have taken this concept even further. It was said that their entire guild base was completely flooded, existing wholly underwater within the realm of Gondrad. At least, that was how the rumors went.
Lost in his own thoughts, he barely noticed that they had reached the gate separating the guild base from the outside world—until Neptuneus' voice broke through the haze.
"My lord."
He snapped back to awareness and gave a short nod. "Open it."
The moment Neptuneus parted the gate, brilliant light flooded the floor, pouring in like a tide. Beyond it stretched the horizon of a vast, open sea, its surface glinting far below. In the distance, a dessert landmass rose from the water, and upon it he could see pillars of black smoke and the flashes of small explosions bursting intermittently across the shoreline.
It was a sight utterly unfamiliar—nothing like the serene Aetherion Realm, where their guild had first been founded.
As he watched the distant bursts of light bloom and fade along the shoreline, curiosity inevitably crept into BURNING_ONES' mind. He voiced the thought aloud, both to himself and to those around him.
"War?"
"Most likely, my lord," Neptuneus replied calmly. "I have already dispatched several creatures under my control to conduct reconnaissance on that land."
His instincts as a commander snapped into place. Without hesitation, BURNING_ONES began issuing orders. He instructed Ka'el to weave an illusion over the guild base, concealing it from prying eyes, and ordered Neptuneus to anchor the entire structure deep within the ocean—far below the surface—ensuring it remained hidden beneath the waters.
...
Far out in the open ocean, a lone merfolk stared upward, his eyes wide despite the pain of sunlight—something he was never meant to endure for long. He couldn't tear his gaze away from the colossal shape that had suddenly cast its shadow over the waters he called home.
Suspended above the sea was a massive floating construct, a towering behemoth more than a kilometer across. Four gigantic chains hung beneath it, swaying slowly as the construct drifted through the air, carried by unseen forces and the restless winds. Inch by inch, it began to descend.
Fear seized the merfolk. Without hesitation, he turned and fled toward the depths. He was not alone in this reaction. All across the surrounding waters, every merfolk who had glimpsed that impossible sight did the same—abandoning the upper seas and retreating into the dark, silent deep, away from the thing that did not belong in their world.
...
As the Heavenly Fortress began its descent into the ocean's crushing depths, the entire structure trembled softly, ancient mechanisms humming to life. Water surged upward along its descending frame as the colossal gates slowly began to close, sealing away the last glimpse of the surface world.
"Gather in the Throne Room," BURNING_ONES commanded, his voice carrying with unquestionable authority. "Emergency council. Immediately."
The guardians were already assembled near the opened gate, bathed in the fading brilliance of the outside light. At the order, teleportation circles bloomed beneath their feet in disciplined succession. Pillars of radiance rose and collapsed one after another, each guardian vanishing until only a single figure remained by the threshold.
Mizu Akari.
He lingered where the narrowing beam of sunlight still spilled across the floor. His eyes remained fixed on the distant desert landmass. Even from afar, smoke clawed into the sky and intermittent flashes of destruction rippled along the shoreline.
War.
The corners of Mizu's lips slowly curved upward. After holding his gaze upon the chaotic shore for a long moment, he smiled—an unmistakable glint of excitement flickering in his eyes, as though the unfolding conflict stirred something deep within him.
The gates rumbled louder as they drew closer together, reducing the outside world to a thin blade of light.
"Mizu, aren't you coming with us?" Neptuneus asked.
Mizu did not respond immediately. He watched until the final seam of brilliance began to fade.
Only then did he turn his head toward Neptuneus, the faint smile still lingering.
"Of course," Mizu replied calmly. "I'll come."
And with that, the last sliver of light vanished as the Heavenly Fortress sank fully into the abyss.
...
Within the Throne Room, BURNING_ONES ascended the obsidian steps and lowered himself onto his throne just as the guardians arrived in measured succession, flashes of light dispersing into silence around him.
At the same time, a silent command rippled across the entire stronghold—an unseen summons issued by Akasha.
From every domain, they answered the call.
The Floor Guardians were the first to arrive, their presence heavy with authority.
Then came the Area Guardians—wardens of specific regions, each embodying the will and design of their assigned territories.
One by one, they vanished from their domains.
One by one, they appeared within the throne room.
Flashes of light ignited across the vast chamber, then faded into stillness as each figure took form. The air grew heavier with every arrival—power layering upon power, presence upon presence.
What was once a grand hall became something greater.
A convergence.
A gathering of all that defined the guild's strength.
All had assembled.
The vast chamber fell into absolute silence.
BURNING_ONES rested his elbow against the armrest, fingers pressing lightly against his temple. His gaze dimmed—not with weakness, but with thought.
Ever since that strange glitch… nothing had felt certain.
The sensation had been subtle at first—like a tear in reality, a brief distortion in the fabric of existence itself. A moment that should not have been possible. Yet he had felt it clearly.
And now they were here.
A foreign sky. A foreign sea. War on a distant shore.
Coincidence?
His brow tightened as he traced the chain of events in his mind—the descent, the unknown world, the creeping uncertainty that followed.